


Want, Take, Have

by Miladygrey



Category: Alias (TV)
Genre: Episode AU--"30 Seconds", F/M, WowWrongBadHot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-19
Updated: 2014-05-19
Packaged: 2018-01-25 16:48:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1655549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miladygrey/pseuds/Miladygrey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I no longer care what he thinks. He essentially killed me in Sevogda, and he gave back my life two days ago. We’re even now."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Want, Take, Have

It was too good to be true. Nadia knew it, knew it bone-deep, and it was a horrible thing to know about her own father. Medical files, experimental records, and all her things tucked away, an eerie shrine to Arvin Sloane’s feelings for his daughter. Or his idealized image of his daughter. She would have been quite easy to idealize, she was sure, lying outwardly serene in the hospital. He’d told her (her body) so many times how like an angel she looked.

“He has...something,” she told Jack as they replaced files and lids in and around the boxes that lay in stacks around them. “It was light, he was carrying it with one hand, and it was in a flat, average-sized suitcase. Manuscripts, maybe, or photographs, or other papers.”

“You think the Barcelona labs are somehow linked with Rambaldi?”

“They might be.” Though it hurt her to admit it. A part of her still wanted to believe her father had changed, but he’d proven multiple times before that he hadn’t. She no longer really believed that he would. “Or perhaps it--whatever it is--is his final payment for however he managed to save me. A rare artifact, something like that. He spoke of some complex plan. Even if he‘s truly let his obsession with Rambaldi go, this Prophet Five group you‘ve spoken of hasn‘t.”

Jack nodded, made a note. “Marshall will look into thefts back at APO. And you didn’t recognize--?”

“I’ve been in a coma for over six months, Jack. I’m behind on the current cast.” She knew she sounded bitter, and made an effort to modulate her voice. “No, the only familiar thing was my father.”

He nodded again, tucking away his pad and slipping outside. Nadia did the same, following him back to the sleek black vehicle and climbing into the passenger seat. No one else appeared out from around the narrow street leading down to the storage units, no other cars passed by, and the silence wrapped comfortably around them.

“You were aware of everything, you said.” Jack’s voice was as calm as ever; he might have been discussing the hybrid’s gas mileage or torque. “Heard our conversations, felt the needles…”

“Yes.” She anticipated the question he would never, ever ask. “You were there. Almost as often as Eric, and after he left, even more. I felt--safer, when you were there.”

He made that small face, a quirk of his lips that was the closest Jack Bristow came to a smile. “I don’t think your father would be pleased to hear that.”

She gestured out towards the storage space, the light still glancing garishly bright off the red door. “I no longer care what he thinks. He essentially killed me in Sevogda, and he gave back my life two days ago. We’re even now.”

“Perhaps it’s time to stop thinking in those terms.” Jack’s hands rested on the steering wheel, unmoving. “As I said, I believe I’ve misjudged him. Whatever he’s done for Prophet Five, he did it for your sake.”

“I didn’t ask him to.” Anger was coming now, coming up from where it had lain muffled since she’d woken, and from even deeper. “Truly, if you ask him, everything he’s done has been for me. Hasn’t it? He sought me out, strapped me to a table and injected me with strange chemicals, so that I could fulfill my destiny as the Passenger. He’s courted me, charmed me, and used me for his ends, Rambaldi and otherwise. He shot me to save Sydney, and even though I am not sorry for that, perhaps it shows just what I’m worth to him. He has used people for so long, he’s forgotten how not to.”

“Sydney’s accused me of the same,” Jack said very softly.

“Yes, but you never forgot she was your daughter. To him, I’m someone useful. His daughter when it suits him to have one, a pawn in the spy game otherwise. I--I am grateful for my life, but that ends it. I will live it without him.” It felt good to let it all out. All the years of simmering hurt and bitterness in the orphanage, the confusion of her months at APO where the enigmatic Mr. Bristow was more to be trusted than her nominal ’father’, and the silent, hidden rage of her mind aware in a barely-alive shell. “Like you said, Jack, I have more family than just him. I choose them.” The recklessness that fueled her anger fueled honesty as well. “You’re not family, though.”

His hands clenched on the steering wheel, white knuckles the only sign that he’d heard. She bulled on. “I don’t want a father any more. But I do want you.”

“You’re not thinking clearly.” He wouldn’t look at her, was reaching for the keys. “I’ll take you back to Sydney’s.”

She felt that there was no time to waste, an edgy urgency that prickled under her skin. So much time lost already, while she lay trapped in her body, in shadows and pain, and her only anchor to reality Jack’s familiar voice. She moved, sliding smoothly across the seat and divider, and planted herself in his lap. “No.“

When his hands touched her, she squirmed deliberately, turning what was meant to be a push away into a rough, sliding caress down her sides. He went still, but his hands stayed, wide and warm along her ribs. One deep breath, just one, and she heard it clearly. “Nadia. This is not--”

“This _is_ ,” she retorted, not letting him finish the sentence and logic his way out of the situation. “This always has been. We ignored it before, because it was the appropriate thing to do. I don’t care anymore, and I’m not ignoring it now.” She wriggled again, felt him growing hard and knew he was weakening. As much as he ever weakened. “Things have changed, Jack. You’ve changed, I’ve changed, but this hasn’t. You’re allowed to want, Jack Bristow.”

He stared at her, unblinking and unmoving. “But not to have,” he said, something rough and torn in his voice. “The only way to never lose anything is to have nothing to lose. That‘s my life. Our lives.”

Any offer she made, he would refuse. To put her feelings into words, or to try and name his feelings and bring them into the open, would give him something to work with. Jack could build up or tear down anything with words. So she didn’t use them, simply leaned forward and kissed him, threading her fingers up into his hair so she could hold his mouth there under hers. He tasted dark and bitter, and she touched her tongue to his lips to see if any other flavor lingered.

He bit her. Teeth set in her lower lip, he bit down hard. Her training was all that kept her from flinching away, and her feelings (her own wanting) let her use that instant to lick inside his mouth and taste him along with bittersweet and blood. Then he sucked just as hard on the bite mark, dulling pain down to an ache that wasn’t unpleasant, not really, and Nadia willingly let him have a taste of her.

Everything after that was a blur, heat and friction. Her jacket was yanked down her arms, entangling her hands, which left her half-restrained when he licked down below her neckline and unable to do anything but hiss his name and writhe. When the jacket did finally come off, it was dark and confusing, and neither of them could bring themselves to stop touching long enough to get things open or undone. She wanted him to leave marks, would have begged if he’d left her air to beg with, but after that first hungry kiss, he deliberately teased with his tongue and the edges of his teeth, leaving nothing but evaporating warmth on her skin. And more heat, more, and she leaned her head into his chest and whispered his name over and over until it was a mantra and a prayer. When he said her name, breathed out through clenched teeth against her hair, it was enough to finish her, and she smiled to hear his heart pounding when she tightened and he came.

“Are you sure you aren’t using me?” His voice vibrated against her ear after a few uncountable minutes. She didn’t bother to move her head. “This is symbolic, but not the same thing as--”

“Don’t finish that sentence.” Nadia knew what he meant, and knew just as certainly that it wasn’t like that. She knew what that felt like. “If I’m using you for anything, Jack, it’s to prove I’m free. He doesn’t overshadow my life any more. I won’t follow him like a puppy, I won’t risk my life foiling his schemes, and I’ll take a chance on having--having a life. Everything I want. You should try it.”

A hand slid slowly down her back, splaying wide in silent possession, and that was an answer even before he spoke. “Is that what you are? A life?”

“A new one. Different. It’s not too late. Not for either of us.”


End file.
